#thanks for submitting!!!!! forever ago!!!!

[wisteriagoesvroom]

HI LOVE!!!💖💖💖

pathetic + carcar <3

Oscar sits. The bed is firm beneath his palms. Carlos is on his knees.

The other man’s mouth is parted, gently pliant in a way he never is anywhere else. He's usually this way, crawling to Oscar in his need. Demanding with his touch, on edge after a race, after one of their racing incidents.

If Oscar were unkind, he might think Carlos, still bereft of a seat for '25, was starting to cause on track run-ins with him deliberately. For what reason, Oscar doesn't know, and Oscar doesn't wish to entertain that train of thought because it was a nonstop bullet to nowhere good.

Unfortunately though, he has always enjoyed driving on the limit.

"Is this how you like it? How you need me?” Carlos says, acrid with disgust. With Oscar, with this, with himself — who’s to say.

“I don’t need anything from you.” Oscar replies.

Carlos’s laugh is hollow. “That is a lie. I think you find a strange happiness in leaving me unsatisfied."

Oscar doesn't respond. Just peers at Carlos with his most neutral expression, mind turning. Piecing together the puppet that is Carlos. Heart too big. Talent overshadowed by others. The obvious and barely concealed inferiority issues that might as well leave the man bleeding openly on the side of the track.

Alpine 2022 means Oscar has had too close a brush to irrelevance, and he knows a little something about being unwanted. He has broken his ribs. Understands plenty about silent injury. How to push through pain. It's just the way it is, kid. Mark had said once. Luck of the draw. The words ring in his ears, in the silence.

Perhaps they have more in common than he wants to believe. Perhaps this is why he and Carlos compel each other.

"You are so quiet. I don't know who are you are fooling with your act." Carlos says, under his breath, perhaps more to himself than to anyone else. Trying to bait Oscar, twisting the nail with hope that it hurts.

Carlos clambers up from the floor, bringing himself eye to eye with oscar. "If they only knew what you are like in here, the way you beg me to let you come, the way you look when I–"

Oscar finds himself bored of this. The excessive verbiage, the posturing, when they could just call this what it is. A bad habit. A need.

Besides, Carlos’s arousal is evident the strain of his boxers, the deep maw of his eyes.

So Oscar peers steadily up at Carlos, and spits into his open mouth.

Carlos looks as if he's been slapped. There's a flash of danger in his expression.

Oscar counts upwards. The room is so silent that Oscar thinks there’s an element of truth to that saying about a pin being dropped. Oppenheimer could rise from the dead and remake his bomb, and neither man would probably move.

Then Carlos lunges at Oscar. Kisses him, shoves Oscar so hard back onto the bed that Oscar can barely breathe.

If it's destruction that Carlos wants, then Oscar can be charitable, just this once. He lets Carlos take what he needs, lets Carlos push and push with his tongue and his hands and his body. Lets Carlos take from him until Oscar's own mouth swells with the ache of it. And still, Oscar does not cede, and never does.

Carlos gasps when he breaks the kiss. It’s the surprising noise of concession, of defeat. But Oscar lets Carlos cage him in, hands at the side of his head, and he lies perfectly still. He doesn’t feel the need to posture all the time, to prove his power.

"Are you done?" Oscar says.

Carlos hovers, muscles tensed with anticipation, waiting for the gunshot. The next move from Oscar to push them over the edge, or end it all.

You're pathetic, Oscar thinks.

But watching Carlos spiral, watching him fall apart in the face of Oscar's glacial indifference - Oscar wonders if he is the pathetic one too.

As the person who keeps the door open for a kicked dog.

Who unfolds his hand, and lets him stay.

[dragonjesterwrites]

Last Line Challenge ✨️

Tagged by the talented af @muzzlemouths!

Rules:

Create a new post with the last line you wrote/drew (I guess for my artist frens a segment of what you last drew? Or text if the piece includes it)

Tag as many people as your line has words! (Or however many you like)

Here is my last line:

Annnnd some tags!

@ficmachine @bitter-beanz @doofnoof @paris-23 @certified-handler

[httpsserene]

𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐰/𝐥𝐧𝟒

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you’re upset with the switch up the internet has pulled on you. a few years ago, everybody was saying you were too pretty for lando, but now they’re drooling over him? you will not be letting this slide.  📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: fluff. mild angst. humor. twt users being twt users. reader is a fashion designer (not important but mentioned). reader is also wild af. brain-rot. not beta-read. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lando norris x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smau. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: spice girl • aminé

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: in honor of lando's birthday :) look y’all—i saw one tik tok edit that was like “why is lando kinda…” and i audibly said KINDA???? and then i got mad like, how are people just noticing how fine he is. and then i saw another one that was like, “oh everybody thinks charles is the prettiest on the grid…but now introducing: lando” and i almost threw my phone across the room :) so this is inspired by me flexing that i have always thought lando was fine, and that i’m also mad that i have to share him. loves, this is complete brain rot and it took me years to recreate these ig posts for some reason; have fun reading !!!

all pics are from pinterest/op's

want to be added to my taglist or submit a request? send me an ask!

all of my posts can be found from my table of contents

anything on your mind? talk to me!

twitter • three years ago, 2020

instagram

yninstagram • three years ago, 2020

liked by landonorris, mclaren, maxfewtrell, lewishamilton, and 16,175,978 others

yninstagram lando norris is the man i want to spend the rest of my life with. he’s perfection personified. the most soft, kindest, sweetest, considerate, and funniest man has allowed me the privilege of being his girlfriend. i’m forever thankful that we get to grow together. he’s the cutest, hottest, and prettiest boy to ME–and that’s all i care about, and that’s all you need to accept. i don’t give a FUCK about your opinions on who *i* should date. i’m the only person who’s decisions matter concerning my romantic relationships. why the hell should y’all bitches who don’t even use their own photos for their pfp’s and use a k-idol’s face instead, dictate who is hot or not. it’s incredibly vein, disgusting, and immature behavior from people who think they’re my fans. acting like jealous school children isn't cute; i was never your property. it’s hilarious too, considering some of y’all are grown women DOUBLE my age talking shit about my business–go worry about why your kids don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

tagged landonorris

view comments

yninstagram matter of fact, go ahead and change your little profile pictures to real pictures of you, i don’t want to see any filters. then we can all see that all y’all want to do is spread insecurity stemming from your own self-hatred 🙂

yninstagram and while i have you all here, my winter season clothes will be restocked on the 15th.

comments have been disabled.

twitter • imessage • 2023

instagram

landonorris • august 24th • zandvoort ⚑

liked by yninstagram, mclaren, carlossainzjr, and 547,930 others

landonorris back in my favorite place

view comments

yninstagram first!! stay back hoes 🤺🤺

➥ user being called a hoe by y/n is not what i expected this year

➥ user she has notif’s 😭on 😭 for 😭 lando 😭

yninstagram how r u so HOT 🥵

yninstagram that sweater is mine now 👺

➥ landonorris i can just get another for you love

➥ yninstagram …i want this one lan🫤

➥ landonorris okay it’s yours 🫠

user neither of them have any backbone when it comes to each other

➥ yninstagram as it should be 😤

user might have to trip and fall into lando’s arms this weekend

➥ yninstagram i’m flying in tomorrow rethink your plan 🙂

➥ user i think i’ll avoid lando like the plague this weekend 😅

➥ user smart decision babes

landonorris • september 12th

liked by yninstagram, lnfour, tumitravel, and 425,395 others

landonorris coming in hot @ tumitravel

view comments

yninstagram come in me—i mean come home to me haha 😳😊

➥ landonorris babe please not in front of the sponsors 😧

➥ tumitravel oh no pls don’t stop for us 🫣 we stan y/n

user i saw this photo shoot LIVE!!! lando was so sweet, he signed my hat for me, and he smells so good 😩😩

➥ yninstagram i’ll chop off your nose and then you can be voldemort for halloween 👺

user i don’t know if i want to choke him or have him choke ME

➥ yninstagram how about me choking you

➥ user omg i’m down for a threesome 😳

➥ yninstagram choking you to death :)

➥ user i don’t wanna play this game anymore

landonorris • september 18th • singapore ⚑

liked by yninstagram, mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 950,706 others

landonorris whatttaaaaa weekend ❤

view comments

yninstagram GODDAMN

carlossainzjr vamossss landito ❤️💪🏼🏆

➥ landonorris ayyyy 🧡🥳🥳

➥ yninstagram my boysssss 🥰

yninstagram that’s my boyfriend 🤤

➥ landonorris last photo is just for you 😋

yninstagram so proud of you baby, i’m running out of room to put all these trophies <3

➥ landonorris v happy to be your trophy husband

user i’m in love with this singapore haircut 🤤 thank you for not fucking it up lando 😅

➥ yninstagram mmm yes, i’m thrilled it’s still long on the top 😍 it gives me something to tug on

user surprised y/n allowed him to post that last one

➥ yninstagram he doesn’t need my permission, but i get to see him naked so i rdc

user quadrant helmet it so beautiful! i want it to stay 😭

➥ user i want him to fuck me with it on

➥ yninstagram out of pocket…but completely valid honestly—delete your account 😊

liked by landonorris

yninstagram carlando 1-2 makes up for the war i’m fighting in these comments

mclaren • novemeber 8th

liked by landonorris, f1, yninstagram, and 97,293 others

mclaren pulling up fresh with @ landonorris

view comments

yninstagram not pictured: @ landonorris pulling up to OUR flat

➥ user y/n said “he’s coming home with meeeee”

f1 does he come with the jacket👀

➥ yninstagram no, but the price of me folding you like a lawn chair is included in shipping & handling

➥ f1 i’ll go sit down 😅

➥ user she’s fighting the f1 main??? this is mentally-ill behavior y/n!!!

yninstagram mclaren admin go stand in a corner and stare at the wall

➥ mclaren they made me post this!!! i would NEVER risk upsetting you ma’am 🙇🏼‍♀️

➥ yninstagram no talking from the timeout corner 🫵🏽

user we don’t care about the jacket. which organ do i have to sell to buy an hour with him?

➥ yninstagram both kidneys

➥ user but you need at least one kidney to live?

➥ yninstagram how,,,unfortunate

user model!lando always glowssssss

➥ yninstagram it’s the 9 step skincare routine i have him on, you can follow steps 1-8 on his ig

➥ user what’s step 9?

➥ yninstagram kissing me 🤭

lando.jpg • novemeber 13th • with my wife ⚑

liked by yninstagram, carlossainzjr, mclaren, team_quadrant, and 976,234 others

lando.jpg lucky to have found you so early in my life. you're my best birthday gift.

tagged yninstagram

view comments

yninstagram posting my side boob on the jpg account? forgiven since you called me your wife 🥺

➥ lando.jpg thought i’d start practicing your future title, mrs. norris

➥ yninstagram come back to bed. you can start practicing giving me your kids too.

user i want y/n to bury my head in between her boobs

➥ lando.jpg no. i sleep there also—you’re blocked 🤗

danielricciardo as long as i’m the godfather, i can forget i’ve ever read this 🤮

➥carlossainzjr get in line mate, i’ve called being baby norris’ godfather ages ago

➥maxverstappen wait your turn mates, clearly i am the correct choice for godfather

➥maxfewtrell ah, i believe you lads have forgotten my existence

➥yninstagram baby norris doesn’t exist yet, no need to fight to the death rn 🙄

➥lando.jpg i’ll convince the mrs to have four, for my racing number and so you each have a godchild 😅

user y/n may have won the war, but i’ve won the battle—bisexuals have been fed today!!!

➥user girl, i’m straight and i’ve zoomed in on the last photo an unhealthy amount of times

➥user i diagnose you with y/n-sexuality it’s incredibly common in humans

liked by lando.jpg

oscarpiastri you two are made for each other 😀

➥lando.jpg this sounds like an insult 🙂

➥yninstagram i thought kids under 13 weren’t allowed on ig

➥oscarpiastri you’re not even a year older than me @ yninstagram

mclaren mama y papa

➥ yninstagram still on timeout.

➥ mclaren :(

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

© httpsserene2023

[nonotnolan]

Jock Cock, Part 3

Many thanks to my photo source for agreeing to appear in this work! Check out Part 1 here. Check out Part 2 here.

"Sir, did you have an appointment?" Inwardly, I flinched. Externally, I needed to act like I belonged here. A little bit of bravado will go a long way, after all. I turned to face the student worker sitting at the desk I had waltzed past.

"Mike is expecting me," I said, gesturing vaguely behind me. That was a bold-faced lie, but I had at least confirmed that his Outlook calendar was open, and Teams showed him online when I left my office. It also listed him as a level two Admissions worker, so I think that meant he had his own office? I don't know how he could have arranged all of those body swaps without some sort of privacy.

Sure enough, I found him in the middle of a row of offices that were all pretty much identical. "Well, look at you. You managed to get an office with an exterior wall and everything. I'm a bit jealous. I'm here to talk about... well, us. I hope this isn't a bad time." I had gotten a rough idea of what he looked like from his company profile picture, but he was even more handsome in person.

"Kevin?" He hopped to his feet and quickly shut the door behind me. "I never wanted you to... how did you even find me? There are over 100 Michaels employed here, let alone the student population."

I smiled at him. It felt good having the upper hand, for once. "True, which is why I needed to approach this from an entirely different angle. It occurred to me that if you never told Adam about our meeting, I could use his test score to scare him into talking."

He glared at me. "Final grades were submitted weeks ago. You had no leverage over him."

"You know that. I know that. But Adam had no idea. I told him that I wouldn't pursue any sort of punishment as long as he gave me a name, and... well, here we are."

Mike let out a long, frustrated sigh. "I suppose you think that you're so damn clever."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Think it? I know it."

"Well then, Mr. Clever, how did you think this would play out? I told you, I'm only looking for hookups. Hookups that happen in bodies that are way more muscular than this one. Was I supposed to change my mind? You do a little bit of detective work, and suddenly I'm going to be yours forever?"

Out of all of the ways this scene had played out in my mind, righteous fury was definitely not one I had considered. "What? No, no, hang on. Mike, please. I'm not expecting you to be mine forever. One, the whole point of dating is just to see if we're even compatible, but more to the point... what's the point in swapping bodies if you can't have sex with multiple others? You have a gift, somehow, and I would have to be the biggest asshole to make you deny that part of yourself!" Mike started to relax his shoulders, and I took that as a sign to keep pressing.

"I'm not one of those guys who insists on monogamy. The open relationship is fine, I just… I want more than hookups. I want to come home after a rough day and know that you'll be there, waiting for me. Or at least your body. Can we… can we at least try?"

Mike just stared at me, with a stern and angry face that was weakened by his watery eyes. "I need you to understand I'm not happy with you right now. You completely ignored my thoughts and feelings because you decided that you knew better. And the only reason that I'm not telling you to get the fuck out is that my heart admits you may have a point. And as much as I want to be angry at how you violated my privacy… I was doing the same thing to your feelings when all I wanted to do was hook up."

He looked so sad that I wanted to reach out and give him a hug, but I had a feeling that if I tried, it would read as me dismissing his emotions as invalid hysterics. And that was the last thing I wanted to. I slipped my hands in my pockets, and stared at a point in the floor. "Well… then where do we go from here?"

He looked up at me, arms crossed defensively. "Let's do it this way. 7:00, the Starbucks on the edge of campus. If I show up, we'll try it your way. If I don't show up, we both agree to stop trying to pursue each other. Relationships, hookups, any of it."

-----------------------

I sat there, fidgeting with the empty coffee cup in my hand as my eyes scanned the slow stream of passerby for any sign of Mike. I'd arrived at 6:45 because of who I am as a person, but at some point I was going to have to admit the possibility that he had chosen not to be here. I glanced down at my phone. 7:12. At least the shop was busy enough that none of the baristas were paying attention to him. The only thing worse than being stood up was having witnesses.

Once the clock hit 7:15, I tossed the cup in the trash and headed out the door. It stung a bit. A lot a bit, actually. 80s movies had sorely misrepresented how easy it was to get into a relationship by being your authentic self. But if he truly wasn't interested, that was his choice to make. Showing up at his apartment with a boombox wasn't going to change anything.

"And just where do you think you're going, Kevin?"

I looked up to see a shirtless man with massive shoulders staring at me from the parking lot. "How do you… Mike, is that you in there?" He just smiled in response. "Mike, what the hell! Have you been standing here the whole time? I thought you stood me up!"

He shrugged. "Well, I considered going in there to join you, but… this felt like a good way to pay you back for your little stunt earlier today. I don't want you thinking that you'll always have the upper hand. And anyway, there's only the one door. It's not like I was going to lose track of you. Now get over here," he said as he pulled me into a bear hug.

I wanted to be angry, but it was hard to stay mad as I felt the warmth of his body against my chest, the smell of sweat and tobacco assaulting my nose from his current body. "Why do I get the feeling that one of our love languages is going to be pressing the other person's buttons?"

He looked up into my eyes and tousled my hair. "You're the one who wanted a relationship. You'll have to date all of me, not just the parts of me that fit your daydream." He was right, of course. Whether that was a promise or a threat, I could not say. But I was excited for the two of us to find out. Together.

[navybrat817]

“Behave, I wouldn’t want to have to punish you now.”  with Nick Fowler please 🥰

Love this! Thank you for submitting a prompt. Went a little dark with this. ❤️

Snow Globe

Pairing: Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader

Summary: Nick thinks snow globes are beautiful, just like you.

Word Count: Over 600

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, NONCON/DUBCON, cockwarming, possessive behavior, Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Set in the same AU as See Through You and Home Video. And a small submission to @thebasementspouses 's Christmas Challenge with Nick and Snow Globe. ❤️ Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Beautiful, isn't it?”

You peeked up at Nick where he sat on the couch and studied his handsome face. He was in a good mood today. Maybe because he got to sleep in a bit and cuddle with you. He didn't even bother getting fully dressed once he got up. Just put on a pair of boxer briefs and insisted on the two of you staying in.

As if you had a say in the matter.

He chuckled when you let out a hum of confusion. “The snow globe, sweetheart,” he smiled, picking it up from the end table beside him. He gave it a small shake to draw your attention to it more. “See? Beautiful.”

You stared into the snow globe, not at all enraptured like when you saw them in stores or homes. A souvenir like that should have enchanted you with the lightly sparkling snowflakes and glitter. The ethereal vision only served to remind you that looks could be deceiving.

Evil can be beautiful.

Nick Fowler was living proof.

“I thought maybe we could start our own collection,” he continued as he set it down and brushed his fingers along the side of your throat with a soft smile. “Doesn't that sound nice?”

You blinked once. Again, you had no say. You could argue with him, sure. But who knew where that would lead? Nowhere good.

And you didn't want to go down the hard path tonight.

“Fuck, your mouth really does look beautiful stretched around my cock,” he breathed, his fingers drifting along your neck again as he rolled his hips up. “Breaks my heart when you try to fight it, but you aren't fighting now, are you?”

You exhaled through your nose, the urge to gag rising. It was only a few minutes ago when you felt the weight of him slide across your tongue, but it felt more like hours with the slight ache in your jaw. The tip of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat and you willed yourself to stay still and focus on breathing.

At least he was kind enough to give you a pillow for your knees.

“Of course, you aren't. Because as much as you fight it, you love it when I fill you up,” he smirked as you shivered, a darkness settling over your heart. He made you feel good physically every time he took you, but you couldn't let pleasure wear you down. Could you? “And I really do love filling your holes.”

You almost wished he'd stop talking. If he did, you could allow yourself to drift away. You wouldn't disappear into a daze completely, but you could retreat into yourself for a short time and deny that you belonged to him. Which was precisely why he kept speaking.

Nick wouldn't allow you to leave him, even if it was just in your mind.

And with his cock in your mouth, he wouldn't allow you to talk back.

“It’s okay to like being mine, sweetheart,” he whispered.

But why should you like it?

He let out a sharp hiss when your teeth grazed him harder than he liked and gripped the back of your head in a warning. “Behave,” he said in a low voice. “I wouldn't want to have to punish you now.”

He kept you on his cock when you tried to let up, not allowing you any reprieve. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as you met the burning azure of his gaze, his eyes so dark they were almost black in the dim light. It was like looking into your own twisted snow globe.

You were trapped.

Forever.

I love him. I can't help myself. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bisexualiteaa]

Hi honey, I just discovered your Cooper fics today and oh my gods. They're incredible, I love the way you write him ❤️. I was wondering, if you're still taking requests that is (no pressure like), if you could do a sub! Cooper x reader? Preferably male!reader or with male genitalia, but fem is totally okay if you're not comfortable with that 😁. I just think Coop with a taller, more muscular partner is neat.

I'm thinking the reader was secretly married to Coop and Barb beforehand, but lost part of their memories after they became a ghoul and one of the best bounty hunters around, wearing a mask. And all they remember about Coop is how beautiful his eyes were (Walton Goggins has the most gorgeous eyes ever, I swear 😫) So the reader wants the head too and tags along with the gang, eventually getting closer to Cooper. During a fight, reader gets hurt and Coop comes over to help them, but reader is finally close enough to properly see his eyes and realises it's him. Coop takes off the mask, reader remembers, there's tears, kisses, and eventually super soft, subby sex.

So, really just really angsty, then fluffy when they find each other after 200 years. Reader taking care of our baby girl Coop, and him just accepting the love and being a pillow princess. Maybe a little overstim and edging if we're feeling spicy 😉.

I'm so sick for this man, it's unhealthy. Thanks again for your amazing work, love. I absolutely made my day better! (Sorry for how long this ask is 🙃).

It’s Been a Long, Long Time

Cooper Howard x Ghoul Fem Reader (angst-fluff!)

CW: pre-ghoul Cooper, established relationship, reader and Cooper were married and had a child together, character death, cursing, angst!! But don’t worry, it’s a happy ending, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from the TV series

AN: not me posting this at 3am before I leave for a trip for the weekend, I feel like I’ve depraved y’all! 😂 I wanted to post this to give y’all some good Cooper Content ™️ before I go on a three day hiatus for vacation! 🥺 Thank you all to the people who have submitted asks, I promise I am still working on them/towards getting to them! ❤️ In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy this one! @kinatanhi I hope I did your request justice! I know it’s a little tweaked from what you sent in and forgive me, I wrote this literally an hour ago at 2am because it finally came to me what I wanted to write, but seeing as it was written at 2am, y’all please forgive me if it isn’t my best work, I tried my best lol. 😭❤️

You smiled happily as you danced with your husband in your shared, quaint little kitchen, his hands coming to rest at your waist as they always did, and your arms looped around his neck. You were thankful that the producers on set of his movie, as well as his agent, allowed him to come home early in order to celebrate your birthday with you. You stood smiling up at him as you two danced- well, more like swayed, to the slow music playing from the radio. You lay your head against his chest, smiling as your eyes set on the gorgeous flowers that were lying on the kitchen counter that he brought home just for you. You smiled up at him when you caught him staring down at you with nothing but love and adoration in his gaze. “What’s that look for, hmm?” You asked with a playful smile, making him chuckle and flash that gorgeous smile of his that you loved so much, almost as much as his eyes that you swore you could be lost in forever. “Nothin’, just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful woman on this earth” he said, making you hum appreciatively at his cute answer. “Oh stop it, you charmer you” you replied, making him scoff in fake offense, making you giggle at his dramatics. “I’ll have you know I don’t go throwin’ that ‘round willy-nilly, little lady” he assured, making you smile wider at him as you laughed. “I know, I’m a lucky woman to call you my husband” you replied sweetly, getting up on your tip toes to kiss him as you looped your arms around his neck once more.

Those were better days, days when things were so simple, times where all you had to worry about was nothing more than how long the pie was in the oven, or how your baby was doing. It was a pleasant memory, one you’d never forget as the last time you’d seen your husband since the war. That night flooded your memories each time you’d lay down to close your sunken in eyes, they were the only thing about you now that remained as human as they were back before you became a ghoul. You swore to yourself that you’d find him one day, swore that you would kill the bastards that started all this, that took your baby girl away from you before she had a chance at a good life and separated you from your husband. You prayed each and every night that he was still out there, still alive somewhere, roaming the wastelands like you were. You knew it was doubtful at best, maybe it was better if he wasn’t alive to live through the shit you have, to see the way you look, but one could only hope for the better things. You no longer looked the same way you used to back then. Your soft, nearly perfect skin was now marred and leathery, your teeth yellowed from radiation exposure, poor diet and lack of ability to actually care for them, and your nose was now missing completely from your face, a deep hole sitting where the cartilaginous appendage once did. You wondered if he would even love you still in this state, if he’d even recognize you. You couldn’t blame him if he didn’t, you weren’t that same woman anymore physically or emotionally. Anger and vengeance had a hold on your heart like a vice death grip, you were kind to those who deserved it sure, but to those who crossed you? Those who hurt you? Let’s just say there’s a reason you’re a feared bounty hunter out here in the wastelands and not in a vault somewhere.

You were walking into Filly one late morning, coming to pay a visit with Ma June to see if there was anything she needed, any bounty she may have had for you for some extra caps. Your supply of chems to keep you from going feral was running low, you were down to your last bottle in your inhaler, and in desperate need of more. As you strode into town, you pulled your bandana up over your nose, effectively covering your face below your eyes, your large hat casting a shadow on the rest. You weaved your way through the vendors as they were trying to shove goods at you and anyone who was behind or around you. As you waded though, your ears caught the sound of a deep, southern accent that sounded awfully familiar to you. “I ain’t interested unless you got RadAway” he spoke harshly to the vendor haggling him, and you had to do a double take. He sounded just like your husband. You turned in the hopes to place a body to the voice but by the time you could, he was already lost into the crowd, impossible to find amongst the sea of people now that he wasn’t speaking to anyone anymore.

You huffed to yourself, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things, or maybe you were just plain out delusional at this rate. It wouldn’t shock you, between the years of radiation exposure, radiation sickness, and everything in between, you wouldn’t be shocked to find out you’d gone mad. However you wanted ever so badly for it to have been him that was speaking. To run up to him, arms outstretched, tears down your face but a happy smile as you called his name. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t even find the man attached to the voice anymore so why make a fool and draw attention to yourself. No one took kindly to ghouls. So with a heavy heart, you pushed on, making it to the doorstep of Ma June’s shop when you heard him again. “50 caps? That’s just plain ridiculous. 30, take it or leave it” he bartered, making you turn around again, only this time you caught him. You spotted a man that was tall, around the same height as your husband, clad in a wild western style cowboy outfit. You thought it was familiar, from the hat all the way down to the boots, it reminded you of him but a lot of people out here in the wastes wore Wild West themed clothes, deeming themselves cowboys and cowgirls of the wild wastelands. You wished he would turn around, you needed to see his face, hell just his eyes would be enough to sate the curiosity that was eating away at you. You’d forever recognize those eyes, they were so unique, so him. So beneath the shade you stood, observing him from a distance to be safe. That was until Ma June saw you standing there through the window of her shop, and she had a job for you that was important so she couldn’t wait for you to be done with whatever it was your were doing before she drug you inside. “What are you standin’ around out here for? I got a job for you!” She exclaimed, grabbing you and pulling you inside right as the man turned to walk away. You groaned in frustration as your only chance at an answer was stolen from you, but little did you know that your commotion made him stop to watch curiously as you went inside. Something about that dress you were wearing looked awful familiar to him but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he just kept walking.

As the next couple of days passed by, the curiosity was absolutely eating away at your mind. You wondered if you were on the brink of going feral with how your thoughts were screaming that it could have been him. You wished she would have waited until you could have gotten a better look at him than just his back and his clothes, though they felt familiar, akin to something he would have worn on the set to his movies, you just couldn’t be sure. So you continued on, traveling with a random person’s head in your bag, wrapped up in an old T-shirt that was soaked through with blood now as you were on your way back from your bounty for Ma June. It was a particularly hot day outside, one of those days where no matter how much water drank, you just couldn’t keep the heat away or the dehydration at bay. So as you sucked down the last of your water in your canteen, you did your best to stave off the coughing fit that was bubbling in the back of your throat like a horrible itch you just could never scratch. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t enough, and seeing as you hit your inhaler for the last of your supply yesterday, you were shit out of luck. Damn it, you were so close too, you felt it. You couldn’t go like this, not without finding him, not without avenging your child and going after those Vault-Tec bastards that stole her and your husband from you. “Damn it!” You choked out as you clutched your chest, your coughing fit sending you to your knees in the sand where you laid in the hopes that it would let up sometime soon and you could continue moving. This couldn’t be the end for you, it just couldn’t be. You wouldn’t let it.

As you laid there, throat burning as you were hacking up your lungs, you saw a figure walking along the horizon in the distance. You wondered if maybe this was what they spoke of when people said their loved ones come and take them away right before they pass, or maybe it was just another hallucination, all you knew is that they were coming closer and closer to you. You reached for your gun with all the strength you could offer through your coughing fit and weakened state, unsure of whether they were a raider or someone with just plain ill intention. As they drew closer, you looked up to see another ghoul stabbing before you, his cowboy hat casting a slight shade over his face but even through the tears in your vision you could see his eyes. They were gorgeous, they looked just like how you remember your husband’s looked the last time you had a chance to look into them, making you look him over but it was so hard to tell. He was a man who had succumbed to the same fate you did, leathery skin, no nose, ruined ears, but his eyes…god they were so familiar. You saw him cock his head while looking at you, investigating your features, you could tell there was something about you that he was intrigued with.

“I feel your pain there, sister” he said, that southern drawl coming out sounding just like him, and god how it made your heart ache. He bent down to see you better, taking a better look at you. “I’ll be damned if somethin’ ‘bout you ain’t familiar though” he said, making you look up at him, and in that moment as he looked into your eyes, he could have sworn it was you, his long lost wife. He held hope it his heart, but it was a cruel world out here, he couldn’t be sure. “Your eyes, they look a lot like my wife’s did” he said, and you took that as your chance to see if it was really him. “C-Coo…per…?” You rasped out the best you could, needing to know if it was really him, needing to know if he was alive or if you were just going crazy. His eyes went wide for a moment before reaching for his gun, making your heart jump in your chest with anxiety. “How do you know my name?” He asked coldly, his eyes looking angrily upon you and it made your heart wrench in your chest but beat fast all the same to know it was him. “Tell me! How do you know my name?” He said angrily, making you raise your hands up to show you weren’t dangerous, you cursed your inability to speak properly or else you’d have answered his question already. “Be..cause…we were…Mar…ried” you rasped out once more, showing him your wedding ring that he bought you that rested on your ring finger, making him soften up for just a moment. “After two hundred years… could it really be?” he asked softly to himself in disbelief, but once again, he reminded himself that this world was a cruel place where people stoop to things lower than they ever did before. To him, you could have been anyone, maybe no more than a random stranger who pick pocketed that precious ring off of his wife, a total stranger playing as his beloved to get to his weakness. He pointed his gun at you once more, making tears come to your eyes even more now, had you said something wrong? Why was he mad at you? You hadn’t left on bad terms last you remember, but then again it’s hard to remember as far back as two centuries. “How do I know, huh?” He asked aggressively, and you figured it was a valid worry, you knew how awful this world was now, you couldn’t blame him for needing the reassurance. He needed to be sure it was truly you. “How do I know it’s really you?” He asked, waiting for you to stop coughing long enough to give him an answer. “What’s…that look…for?” You asked, something you always asked him when he stared at you in awe, or when he looked at you right before you two went to bed, it was like your signature phrase. You weakly removed the bandana covering your face, trying your best to show him any bit of your features left that you could use to show him it was really you. “It’s me…Coop. Y/N…” you rasped as saliva began to well in your mouth at the sight of him, slowly losing control over yourself as time passed. He’d never dropped his gun so fast, or fell to his knees so quick in his entire life than in that moment, the only other time was the moment he found out you were pregnant with his child, dropping to his knees to kiss your belly and place his hands on it excitedly. “Oh my god…Y/N” he said in utter shock and disbelief that you were here, you were alive. You were a ghoul now which hurt him to know you suffered the same pain as him, but you were alive and that’s what mattered most to him, finally having found you after all the years spent hoping you were still alive out here.

“Here baby, here, hold on. I gotchya” he said, quickly grabbing his inhaler with a vial of the chems you’d run out of last night, never needing it more than in this moment to keep you from turning feral on him. He pressed it to your lips, pushing the plunger on it to get the chems in your system. You inhaled it like a breath of fresh cool air, sending you coughing once more but that itch was slowly fading away, you could breathe again. You looked up at him as you laid there weakly, your head in his lap. “My hero” you said weakly, trying to be funny but he was too caught up in looking into your eyes, getting himself to believe what was right in front of him. “Two centuries I’ve spent looking for you…” you said, your eyes scanning him and his features to assure yourself too that this was real, that he really was sitting here before you, alive and well. Or as well as one could be as a ghoul in the wastelands. You smiled as you teared up, seeing the tears in his eyes as he looked down at you, pulling you up and into a hug. “Oh god…I can’t believe you’re alive” he said, hugging you tight and you did the same, burying your face into his shoulder. “I could say the same to you. I always knew you were stubborn, too stubborn to go out the way the rest of the world did” you said, making him chuckle as stray tears ran down your marred cheeks. “I’ve been dreaming of this day…dreaming of the day I’d get to see you and B/N again…” he said, making you grip his duster as the tears flooded down your face even more when he said your baby girl’s name. “Cooper…” you said, making him pull away from you but you weren’t far, he made sure of it. “She…she didn’t make it, honey…I’m so sorry. I tried everything, believe me I did, but it was too late…” you said, making his heart absolutely break in his chest knowing his baby was gone and that he would never have the chance to see her again.

“What was she like? She was so young when it all happened” He asked, holding your hands in his as you two shared in this moment together. You smiled as your hand cupped his cheek softly, your thumb rubbing along his skin that shared the same texture as your own. “Just like her daddy. She had your gorgeous eyes, your beautiful smile and that same stubborn attitude” you said through a laugh, making him chuckle with you as his hand came to hold the back of yours as it touched him. He missed your loving touch, and that beautiful smile that he swore could light up even the darkest rooms. He could hardly believe that you’d still even touch or speak to him now, with the way he looked. He knew you likely held a sympathy for it, knowing all too well yourself what it was like but the fact that you weren’t scared or hateful like others were towards him for it. “She was smart, funny, kind…she was daddy’s baby girl. You’d have loved that about her. It was like a little slice of you was there in her, keeping me going. She gave me hope when it felt like there wasn’t any left in this world to hold onto” you said, seeing a few stray tears stream down his cheeks as you spoke of her. His stomach was in knots, his heart filled with anger and pain to know the wastelands claimed one of his own. “I wish I coulda been there, for both of you. Maybe she’d be here if I was” he said somberly, guilt lacing his tone as he leaned his forehead against yours, not caring if your hats would come off. He needed this, he needed you. “Hey, don’t blame yourself for what happened, you had nothing to do with it. It’s those vile people at Vault-Tec who did this. They took our baby, not you. Don’t you ever think this is your fault” you assured him, holding him close to you as he expressed the most emotion he’s felt in nigh on two centuries.

“We made it pretty good all things considered, held our own well for ten years. I taught her how to use a gun when she turned eight to keep her safe should anything happen to me, did everything in my power to keep her safe, fed and hydrated even on the hard days where supplies were sparse” you explained. “The radiation just became too much for her little body to handle. She was ten years old, I could hardly believe it. It was like I woke up one day and she wasn’t a baby anymore, our little girl had just grown up so fast” you said, remembering those days as tears clouded your vision, streaming down your cheeks like small rivers, watching the droplets fall into the sand beneath you. “I’m sorry Cooper, I’m so sorry…” you apologized, making him hold you tight and hush you as you did. “I shoulda been better…if I was better maybe she’d still be here now” you said, taking the blame for something you knew you had no control over, but it left you guilty all the same. “Shh, don’t go thinkin’ like that. I’d say from the sounds of it, ya did a damn fine job managin’ that long out in this shit hole just the two of you. You always were a great mom, and an equally great wife” he said, making you sniffle as you smiled at him at that reassurance. “I did all I could, there was hell to pay for anyone who stood in my way, that’s for sure” you said, making him chuckle because that was exactly how you were before the war too. You always wanted what was best for your family, and you were willing to go great lengths to keep your husband and child happy. “I know you said you been lookin’ for me for a long time…but I ain’t the same man I was back then” he started. “But I got a feelin’ you ain’t exactly the same woman anymore either, so maybe we can still work this out, you and me” he said, making you chuckle. “No, I’m not. And if that means you don’t love me anymore I-“ you spoke but you were cut off by the feel of his lips against your own. They were thinner now, dry and marred by radiation just like yours were, but you could still feel the passion behind it, the love in it. No amount of radiation could ever take that away. “You lettin’ all the radiation get to that brain of yours? Of course I still love you. I lost ya once, I ain’t losin’ you again, that’s for damn sure” he said, making you laugh as more tears fell, only these ones were happier ones now. You squeezed his hand that was in your own as your heart raced in your chest. “You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear, Coop” you replied, kissing him once more with all the passion two hundred years of separation could hold behind it. “I love you, and I’ve missed you so damn much” you said, pressing your foreheads together once more as you fought the tears that began to turn into a sob. “I love you too darlin’, missed you like crazy. The world ain’t been the same without you” he said, making you sniffle as you felt the same way. “And if you’ll still have me, I’d like to make that a world of the past” he added, making you chuckle tearfully. “Of course I will” you said, allowing his heart to rest assured that you were still his girl, making him smile as he looked down at you, his thumb rubbing along your cheek to wipe away your tears.

You smiled back up at him, your hand coming to the back of his as you remembered the moment from your birthday again all those years ago, slow dancing in the kitchen with him. “What’s that look for, hmm?”You asked, just like you did that day, making him grin as he thought of the right words to say. “Nothin’ just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful person on this earth” he replied, making you chuckle. It was just what you’d been needing to hear all this time. “And how lucky I am to have her back in my arms where she belongs” he added, making you giggle before kissing you once more. Desert be damned, Cooper had his wife back after so long spent searching for her, and he was going to make damn sure she knew how much he missed her all these years.

[jreads]

Not sure if this is where we submit requests, but i’d kill for a fic where reader’s having debilitating anxiety attack in Jackson (like where your vision blacks at the edges and you can’t breathe) and suddenly a strong force is keeping you up and you look up and it’s Joel; and he’s concerned bc he relates (but you don’t know each other) and you take a fistful of his shirt and suddenly they feel the symptoms retreating - and that’s how you meet, and you’ve found comfort in each other since. :’)

Sorry if that made no sense it’s word vomit LOL

Also sidebar: unexpected constellations will stay w me forever thank you:’)

Of Memories and Mealtimes (Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, Mentions of death, Foul language

A/N: this prompt was so cute, I hope I did it justice!

It’s been getting colder recently. No snow, not yet, but the breeze has a certain nip to it, blowing burnt orange leaves to rest on the ground like a natural carpet. The days are grey, and the nights are long, and that creeping feeling has been looming ever closer recently. You’ve found solace in the comfort of the kitchen. The air here is warm and humid and smells of frying garlic and onion. You perform repetitive, menial tasks and it staves off—to some extent—the ever-present penetrating feeling of loneliness. 

Since arriving in Jackson, you’ve struggled to find a place, a sense of belonging. You’re coming to the conclusion that maybe you never will. You thought you had one… but that was a while ago. 

It’s selfish to think you’re the only one in this town with a painful past; it’s clear that everyone is trying just as hard to find reasons to get through each day. You’re not alone. But you do feel like it. Often.

Maria has taken pity on you, stationing you in the kitchens because she knows you like it there. Knows you like to watch the people sitting at tables and soak up sounds of laughter in an attempt to steal a moment of second-hand happiness.

It’s late now, pitch black outside, and your shift is almost over. You’re cutting fruits and veggies for omelettes in the morning: spinach, olives, tomatoes. There are maybe five people still sitting, a table of three, one woman at a booth, and a man sitting alone at the bar. Sometimes, you like to eavesdrop.

The trio are talking about their old lives. They seem to have found something in common, street racing. Moding their cars, evading the cops… back when you could just drive into a gas station for petrol.  One used to have an old Charger, stolen in the looting. He reminisces over how the purr of the engine felt, how the lights of the highway would turn to a blur as he accelerated. From the corner of your eye, you see the man from the bar get up to leave, dropping some coin on the counter. You used to like to drive fast too. When it was for leisure and not for survival.

“I’m scared.”

The familiar voice sears through you like a branding iron, bringing with it flashing images of memory. Fuck. No, no, no. Not now. 

The freeway is peppered with stationary cars, and you’re swerving, as fast as humanly possible, trying desperately to navigate the mess. The Jeep behind you is gaining, and the little boy in your passenger seat is rigid in fear. If you can just make it through the overpass, it clears out after that. Their car is good offroad, but yours is faster. You upshift.

There’s gunfire, and your rear window shatters. He screams. You use your right hand to push his head down. He needs to stay low. You’re almost there.

Another gunshot. You try to ignore the popping of the rear tire; try not to think about what it means. The vehicle swerves and you fight against it by correcting the wheel. It’s no use. You clip the side of an abandoned car, and your own flips. You’re thrown through the windscreen. It’s the last thing you remember before your vision goes dark.

There’s pain. But not from the onslaught of old memories. You’ve slipped with the knife in your distraction, cutting a deep line into the side of your thumb. It’s dripping down, coating your fingers in a slick red. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, lungs constricting so hard you can barely get a breath in.

“Could I take five?” you manage to gasp to the other lady. But you don’t even wait for her reply before dropping the knife with a clatter and banging gracelessly through the back service doors. Your vision is blurring, darkening at the edges and your head is spinning. It feels as if you might die. You’re going to die.

Your hand is now coated in blood and—with little thought—you try to brush it off with your right, only succeeding in spreading the scarlet until it’s all you can see.

You wake in a ravine. How long have you been out? There’s pain in your cheek and you reach up to pluck a piece of glass from it. The crash. The kid. Oh, no. Oh, god. You call his name, voice hoarse. No reply. Your legs are too weak to support the weight of your own body, so you scramble up from the ditch, back onto the freeway. The car lies a few meters away on its side. Scraped and destoyed. And beyond it, a small body. No.

You crawl to him, sobbing at the bones bent in unnatural angles. And the bullet wound through his chest. You scream. You wail. His lifeless form is so small in your arms, leaking blood over your palms. You were supposed to protect him. You were supposed to—

His body is going cold. Limp and lifeless. But you can’t let go. Maybe, if you just hold on tight enough, the force of your love can breathe life back into his lungs.

You’re covered in his bood, figuratively, literally, it’s everywhere. Stumbling as if you’re drunk, you cry so hard that the tears only blur your vision further. It’s been a while since you’ve had one this bad. If you could just get back to your house. God, why did it have to happen in public? You can’t see where you’re going, so it’s no surprise when you run into something.

No, someone. There are hands on your shoulders and a comforting voice, gravelly Texan accent. What is he saying? You can’t tell. You’re going to be sick.

Something blocks out the lights of the streetlamp. There’s a body beside you.

A fragile body, broken and empty. Leaking life onto cracked pavement.

No, but this body is warm. Strong and gentle. A calloused palm cradling your head into a broad chest, a steady heartbeat. Alive. This body is alive. You clutch onto the fabric of his shirt with desperate hands, forgetting for a moment that your own blood will stain the fabric. He’s speaking words, low whispers, but the sound of them vibrates through him and into you. He’s telling you to calm down.

But you can’t. How do you tell him you can’t? You’re choking on air, hiccupping in a way that hurts.

“Come on now, breathe with me.” He smells nice, like cedar and whiskey. You can feel him smoothing circles onto your back, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhales and exhales. You try to copy him, lungs spasming with the effort. “That’s it. Keep going.” You’re heaving loud, ugly, uneven breaths, but it’s all you can manage. Past and present are flashing before you, your own blood, someone else’s, unseeing eyes and dead silence, a thumping pulse and soothing voice. It’s getting easier; you’re synchronizing your breaths to his own. But as you lean into the comedown, that exhaustion starts to creep up behind you. You melt into him in relief, but he doesn’t shy away. “There you go. I got you.”

Pieces of your surroundings start to fade back into view. You’re under the awning by the barn, shrouded in shadow. He’s practically holding you up by himself, and you feel a sudden deep stab of embarrassment. You can’t look this stranger in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his shirt.

He doesn’t loosen his hold. “You got nothing to apologize for.”

“Probably got… blood on your shirt.” It’s taking effort to even form the words.

He laughs lightly and the sound is like warm caramel. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

The nausea is ebbing, but you find you don’t want to leave. Caught in his arms, you feel the safest you’ve felt in a long while.

“You should probably get that finger bandaged.” He steps away, pulling your arm into the light to examine the cut and you almost sob once more at the loss of contact. “I got supplies back at my place, if that’s alright by you?”

“Okay,” you say because you feel too weak to walk back to your own house alone right now. And also because in the glow of the streetlamp, you can see the rugged handsomeness of his face, etched with sweet worry, dark curls interspersed with shots of grey. You’ve seen him before. The man at the bar, so often alone. 

You’re shaking now, visceral, wracking shudders. He sheds his coat and swings it over your shoulders before leading you down the laneway.

His house is not far, a five-minute walk at most. He ushers you up the front porch, opening the door to a dim-lit living area.

“Joel?” A shrill voice calls down from above. 

Joel Miller? This is Joel Miller?

“Yeah Ellie, it’s me.”

A little girl comes bounding down the stairs, dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She stops dead when she sees you, noting the jacket around your shoulders, the blood on your hand.

“What happened?” she says, with a kind of fascinated wonder that comes naturally to kids. Oh god, she reminds you of—

“Kitchen accident.” Joel replies smoothly. “You mind getting the med kit, kiddo?”

Her big eyes blink once, twice. “Oh, yeah.” Then she’s running right back up the staircase.

Joel sits you on the couch, grasping your wrist with a tender motion so at odds with all the things you’ve heard about him. Then again, you never knew he had a kid.

“Is she yours?”

He doesn’t look up from your palm. “In the ways that count.”

The girl, Ellie, is back down in record time with a worn first aid kit that she extends to Joel. When he takes it, she looks again at you with blatant curiosity. You feel guilty for barging into the warmth of their home like this.

“Ellie, why don’t you go boil some water for coffee.”

“Can I have hot chocolate?” she asks, and the hopeful joy in her voice is enough to finally make you smile.

Joel does too. “Sure.” And she’s off once more, rounding the corner to where you assume the kitchen lies. “But don’t go putting extra sugar in it,” he calls after her. The soft domesticity makes you ache with loss.

“Well, good news is you won’t be needing stiches.” He pulls an array of supplies from the box: disinfectant, gauze, a bandage. “But you should tell Maria to take you off kitchen schedule for a couple days.”

“How’d you know I was on kitchen schedule?” 

“Lucky guess,” he replies easily, but you swear there’s pink travelling across his cheeks. 

The disinfectant stings and you hiss. He falls into silent work, and you find yourself watching him, trying to understand how the man in front of you is the very same that garnered such a ruthless and cold reputation. 

He breaks the silence first. “I don’t mean to pry but…” Joel fastens the bandage securely around your finger. “…if you want to talk about what happened…”

You don’t. Not now, maybe not ever.

When you don’t reply, he nods his head. “I get it.” You watch him cast a glance toward the sound of a boiling kettle, to where Ellie is. “Trust me, I do.” 

You sit with him and Ellie—quiet with a warm cup of coffee—until late into the night. Ellie makes a face at the smell of it and quips back and forth with Joel about how he can ‘drink that piss.’ The girl has a mouth on her. She’s clever, sharp-witted, and the banter between her and him seems to dig a needle and thread into your gaping heart and sew one single stitch into it.

Past midnight, despite your repeated refusal, Joel insists he walk you home. Seeing your own house, cold and devoid of light makes your shoulders slump and heart race anew. Joel seems to note the behaviour.

“You’re always welcome at ours.” You know you’ll never take him up on the invitation. From the sadness in his eyes, you think he knows it too.

There are miles between you. “Thank you.” He only nods. You leave him standing on the lawn.

From behind the safety of the porch window, you can see that he waits for the light to turn on in your living room before walking back down the street.

Maria has insisted you take a few days off. Damn it. Joel must have said something. You try to busy yourself in the garden instead, but the gloves fit awkwardly over your bandage. You don’t last long anyway. The sound of school children heading home hits your ears around 3:00PM, and within minutes, a small shadow blocks where the sun hits your face.

“What’re you doing?”

Just seeing her face is enough to put a small smile on your own. “I’m planting basil.”

“What’s basil?”

You laugh. Actually laugh. “You want to try some?” You offer her a leaf and she chews it thoughtfully. Gives it an approving face. A thumbs up.

“You should bring some for Joel.” The forwardness of her suggestion is almost shocking, but she seems like the type of kid who says whatever comes to mind. You like that about her. “His cooking is pretty bland.”

Two laughs in one day. This kid is like medicine. “You think so?”

“Mhm. You could come over now. I think he’s on patrol, but he’ll be back soon.”

You think about turning her down, just on reflex. But you like how it feels to laugh, just the way you liked how you had felt in Joel’s arms the other night. So you agree. Her smile is brilliant. 

Minutes later, when she loops her arm through your own, she says, “Hey but don’t tell Joel what I said about his cooking, okay?”

You promise.

Around 7:00PM, he comes through the door, a weary sigh giving him away. “Ellie,” he calls.

“In here!” She’s excited. You’ve prepared a meal: pasta, sundried tomatoes, and the basil plucked from the garden. She’s been picking at the penne with her fingers, unable to wait until he arrives.

Seeing the surprised look on his face when he rounds the corner makes you feel suddenly shy. “I wanted to do something to thank you for last night and, well… Ellie found me in the—”

“Joel, it’s so fucking good.” At this point the muscles in your face are starting to hurt from smiling. 

Over dinner, you actually start to engage in the conversation, and somehow you seem to get along like you’ve known each other for years. In tandem, they work to bring you out of your shell. Your voice is hoarse and face warm by the time you go to leave, but Joel stops you at the door.

“Let me walk you back again.” Your selfish streak is only getting worse. You say yes. You think you see Ellie’s face in the top window as the two of you leave, a devious grin on her face.

Conversation flows on the way, about food, wine, Ellie. It’s comfortable, familiar, but there’s something… 

A yearning, buried under layers of friendly formality. He walks you up your porch and you think, for just a moment, about inviting him inside.

But you’re not quite ready for that just yet. So, you rise up to kiss him on the cheek instead, relishing the stunned look on his face.

Shy again, you back away across the threshold. “Good night, Joel.”

He says it back, and the way your name rolls of his tongue ignites something long dormant within you. You think he might be looking at your lips.

When the door closes, you let out a shuddering breath. And for what seems like the thousandth time that night, you smile.

[yuriisclumsy]

HELLO !! I SEE THAT YOU WRITE FOR CALE HENITUSE :d you've got good taste that man makes me feral i love that unbelievable idiot :D

Whadoyyathink about Cale being with someone who's weaker than him but she's kinda useful (one of pookie's powers is to boost someone's abilities, it generally doesn't matter if the one she's aiding doesn't have magical powers, they just have to be good at something like for example, painting and swordsmanship—she can enhance their ability and knowledge temporarily).

She's a mage that's dying the more she exploits her mana. She tried to not use too much, but in a reality where she and everyone suddenly got thrusted into war? She couldn't help but use, use, use.

None of em knew her degrading lifespan until one day she just told em casually when the gang asks wtf is wrong w u why do you look like u r boutta die and why do you keep passing out sometimes

If this is too much feel free to ignore, though thank you for reading :D

Will you stay by my side forever?

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1,443

[Authors Note]: This thing took me so long to make because I couldn't figure out what setting to write it on. Besides getting a bit tired of only writing for Cale back when I was consistent with the requests. But, hi! I'm back! At least just for this one. This request is back from May 💀. I still have two more, one from June, the other from July. So I might come back and do those. Do people want a part 4 for Love's Dance?

»»►Ouuu, what a fun scenario.

»»►Apologies in advance if it’s a bit weird, haven’t read or written for Cale in a while, so I might have lost my touch.

»»►Warning (I never really do these, but I thought it would be appropriate): could be inaccurate to the Henituse War Arc because I have yet to read it.

»»►Also, the POV is different on this one.

Dragons.

Powerful beings, capable of destroying us all if they wanted to.

One thing they weren’t meant for was to let humans ride them and control them like animals. They had far greater intelligence than any being in existence. 

So why should they submit to us?

The skies are filled with erratic bat-winged lizards; their flames and roars were scattered all over the field.

This was a war.

Dragons…What pesky creatures. I already have one to deal with, I don’t need more.

“Choi Han!”

“Yes, Master Cale?” said man came within seconds and kneeled in front of him.

“I need you to scout out the area in the east for me,” I commanded.

“On it,” and with that, he left as fast as he came.

I already know how all of this will pan out, but a little safety never hurt no one…

“Master Cale!”

“Hmm?” I turned to see one of the city guards running in a hurry towards me. “What is it? Why are you in such a hurry?”

“I-it’s lady [Name]! S-hes…” the guard gasped for air from the run.

“Easy, calm down… Now tell me, what’s wrong with [Name]?” I patted him in the back.

Recuperating the lost oxygen, the guard went serious and looked at me. “Lady [Name] has lost a great deal of blood and fainted..! S-she just started to cough and— M-master Cale–? Where are you going?!” The Guard shouted at me, but all noise was shut down by my mind.

That instinct to check on those you care about kicked in the moment I heard the word blood being uttered.

I ran.

Ran, and ran, until I was able to see the camp where she had been stationed at by me. A camp far from the battlefield, but close enough for me to constantly check-up on her.

How could a thing like this happen to me? I had just checked on you a few hours ago, so why? Why are you suddenly bleeding?

The men there stood aside as I ran past them. They understood not to be on my way with the expression I wore on my face.

“Where is she?!” I yelled to the men crowding a tent. I already knew my answer when they looked at me  and then at the inside with sad expressions.

I burst in and scanned the area to look for the woman I ran miles to see. I paused. There, on a bed on the far corner of the shelter, was her. [Name]. Medics surrounded her with yet more sad faces.

I walked slowly towards them, not wanting to know if what I had in my mind were to be true. “Is she alright?” I asked when I was a mere few feet away from the bed.

The head doctor looked at me with furrowed brows and sighed. He then gave me a smile when he saw my eyes, filled with worry.

“She is fine,” he said. I let the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “But she has lost a great deal of blood. I need her to stay in bed for a few days, and another more of pure rest until I see her health back up again.”

“I see… Thank you.”

“No need, it’s my job,” the doctor looked at the other two, who I believe to be his apprentices, and gestured to them to exit with him. “I’ll leave you alone with her,” he patted my shoulder as he left.

I stood there for a bit, before I went and sat on the bed right next to hers. I stared at her face; the face that made my heart jump from excitement wherever I saw a smile; the face that l would look at and made me feel better instantly; the face that made me fall deeply in love with her.

“...Cale?” a voice rang in my ears which made me snap out of my trance. My eyes meet with hers.

“[Name]...you’re awake,” I let out simply. She smiled at me, relieving me from the aching I had in my heart moments prior. “Are you feeling better?”

She nodded. Her eyes were filled with a love I can’t put in words, stared at mine. “I’m… I’m sorry,” she said sadly.

My eyebrows knitted in confusion. “What are you sorry for? None of this is your fault.”

“...” she stayed silent. She turned her head to the other side, blocking my view of her expression. I knew this move of her’s. She did this whenever she was hiding something. And then I realized something. I hadn’t asked what the cause of the blood was.

“[Name]...” I called to her, “..this wasn’t your fault…was it?”

“...I’m sorry,” she apologized and let out a low sob. “I didn’t want for any of you to find out this way….”

I was in disbelief. What possibly could she have done to cause such blood loss other than a stab wound…had she...?

“[Name], tell me… You didn’t cut yourself, have you?”

She quickly looked at me, “no, of course not, I would never do something as bad as hurting myself!” She reassured me.

That’s good…but that doesn’t answer how she had lost a lot of blood.

“Then…why were you bleeding?”

“...That’s..a long story.”

“I have all day,” I crossed my legs and rested my head on the palm of my hand.

“...”

“...”

She sighted thinking I would give up on the subject, but I’m far too stubborn to give up. “I lost a lot of blood because…”

“Because…?”

“Because of my ability…” she finally said.

“Your ability..? The ability to enhance abilities?” I asked in thought.

“Yes.”

“How exactly does your ability work then?”

“Well, you know that I can upgrade someone's abilities, yes?” I nod, and she continues, “but what I didn’t tell you was the toll it comes with.”

“Toll? Wait, have you been hurting yourself while using your ability?” I accuse her.

“No! Well…yeah, but exactly how you think…” that wasn't very convincing. “Whenever I use my power, it takes energy from my body. The more I use it, the weaker I get.”

“...”

“Please don’t be mad at me…” she pleaded with puppy eyes.

“...I’m not mad.”

“I feel like you are.”

“Well, I’m not,” I straightened my back, “but I will have you permanently stop using that power of yours.”

“What!?” She sat up at lighting speed, and groaned out of pain.

“Don’t sit up so quickly,” I got up and held her back.

“Y-you can’t just…prohibit me from using my power! How else would I be useful to you? How would I earn money!?”

I didn’t say anything. Then an idea came to mind. My ears were burning at the thought.

Taking courage, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat at the word I was about to say.

“...I’m firing you,” I said.

“...Huh?” She looked heartbroken. Oh, how I can’t see you like that. “no…No, no. Please, let me work for you. Please, Cale!” She grabbed my arms in an attempt to make me rethink my decision.

“No, my choice is final,” she was at the brink of crying. “Instead… I want you to stay by my side.”

“What..do you mean?” Her eyes gawk at me with tear drops threatening to spill out.

“Let me rephrase myself so you can understand,” I cleared my throat, “I would like for you to be mine.”

We stared into each others eyes. She shed a tear from before, but not out of frustration, or grief of a lost job, but out of love and affection. She chuckled.

“Is this your way of courting me?”

“Is it bad?”

“No! No, it’s…interesting,” she lowered her head to laugh at my proposal.

“So?” I placed my index finger under her shin and tilted her head to look at me. “Are you going to accept?”

“Hahaha… Yes. I accept,” she gave me the happiest smile I had seen from her.

And in that moment, I knew I was the happiest man alive.

Fin

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Master-List

[detectivebambam]

I would love Scars and Andrew for your writing prompts!

Thank you!

Andrew sat in the bath watching the water surround him. Years ago, being naked in the same house as another person would've sent him spiraling, but he and Neil had existed in the same space so long that it would feel stranger to not have him there.

Neil had stayed in the living room when Andrew announced his departure, promising that he'd join him when the game was over.

It was summer now, and Andrew's scars were more prominent than ever.

As a child, he swore to never make his own. The promise became a suggestion, the suggestion became an afterthought. It felt like power, being the one to hurt, instead of be hurt, even if it was the same tortured body receiving the abuse.

He ran his fingers along the remnants of his angry childhood.

The cuts on his arms had mostly faded, and the ones on his thighs were barely visible at all.

The jagged scar that wrapped its ugly hands around Andrew's hamstring would never fade. It started at his lower back, went down across his leg, and made its home right on his hip. No matter how much his mind healed, his body would forever hold the consequences of the biggest monsters deciding they had a right to the smallest of bodies.

Before he could drown in his thoughts, there was a knock on the door, followed by a mop of red hair peeking its way through the crack.

"Can I come in?"

Andrew nodded.

"I wanted to join you, yes or no?"

"Yes."

Neil began to strip, and Andrew did the best he could to hide the blush creeping up his neck. Hopefully his sunburn would hide it well enough.

Neil lowered himself into the water across from Andrew.

"Hi," he said with a smile.

Andrew only looked at him, but he took the acknowledgement for what it was.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking," he said, staring down at his arms.

Neil put a gentle hand to Andrew's cheek and rubbed his thumb over the scar near his eye.

"Why didn't you duck?"

"I was looking for you."

Neil closed his eyes and sighed.

"If you say you're sorry," Andrew started, "I'll cut you."

Neil snorted and scooted himself between Andrew's legs. Andrew pulled him to his chest by his hair and rubbed his hands down Neil's back.

Neil stayed pressed against Andrew until the water went cold.

If you want to submit a prompt, here's the link!

[lady-bess]

Miller's Mountainous Adventure Park - A Secret Springs Activity!

Joel Miller x F!Reader Words: 1.8k Mature (references to sex - minors DNI please!) Tags: Joel Miller!Adventure Guide, Rope Climbing, Tree-top Assault Course, Protective!Joel, Flirty!Joel, Shameful Flirting, Joel is an ass-man in my canon, References to Sex, Reader is definitely scared of heights, and Joel fkin knows it, Explicit Language.

My contribution to @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs project! Submitting a short one-shot showcasing our beloved Mr. Miller being a treetop adventure park guide for week four's prompt, 'See, Stay, & Do'. Big thanks to our mayor for giving me this prompt! Enjoy! 🥰

A/N: This was heavily based off a recent trip to a similar adventure park I went to not long ago, in which I sustained rope burns on my arms from going down the zip-line a bit too quickly. I also got stuck in the middle of one of the horizontal lines and was suspended mid-air for a good 20 minutes while a member of staff had to come rescue me. Alas, it was not Joel who turned up...

Miller’s Mountainous Activity Park

“Climbing walls, bungee jumps, and zip lines - Miller’s has it all! Come along for fabulous views, a day of laughs, and fun challenges for all!”

The advert for this place seemed appealing at the time when you booked it. You’d been wanting to challenge yourself to try different things, instead of your usual tendency to resign yourself to your own little bubble of introvertedness. That’s what this whole trip was about, anyway. Booked on a bit of a whim after your recent breakup, you had told yourself that this time you were not going to allow yourself to wallow in self-pity, and instead you’d have fun as a singleton. 

But now, several rounds of activities later, you felt like you were ready to throw in the towel and say fuck new experiences. You were tired, exhausted after an afternoon of group orienteering activities, climbing walls, treetop walkways, and rope courses. Your legs felt like they were about to give way after you’d just climbed your eighth rope ladder in the last hour, and you’d never felt so unfit in your entire life. 

Which was great for your self esteem, as you stood panting at the top of the platform, panting like a dog in heat. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” you whispered to yourself while you caught your breath, but you took relief in the fact that it was almost over. Standing up tall, you were finally at the highest point of the course. From here, you could see out across Secret Springs, and admire the views - the tops of every building, filled with all the independent businesses you’d ventured to throughout your stay here this summer; the rolling hills and stunning views that surrounded the town; and even the mayor’s office, who you understood took great pride in the community they’d built - a pride you felt with them. You knew that the pain from this activity park was fleeting, but the memories you’d gain from being here were forever. 

Part of you never wanted to leave. 

“Y’allright, darlin’?” came a sultry drawl from behind you that made your hair stand on end. You jumped slightly, then turned to meet eyes with the instructor who had been taking you and the rest of your group around the whole park - Joel. 

“Sorry, just admiring the view!” you said, smiling sweetly at him. He nodded, stepping closer to you, holding onto his guidelines and keeping them secure. 

“You sure that’s all it is, doll?” he asked. 

Your eyes danced down to watch him fiddle with the clasps on his safety lines, twisting the caps on one line at a time before re-attaching it to the line you were also fastened to. He coughed subtly when he noticed your wandering gaze and a lack of response. 

“I-uh, yeah! Why?” you asked. 

Joel shrugged, chuckling to himself as he finished detaching his lines from the rope ladder safety guideline and securing himself next to you on the platform. He was now able to get closer, and he approached you slowly, bringing one hand up to rest on your shoulder in a kind of comfort. 

“Just a hunch. I’ve done a lot of these tours - you wouldn’t be the first person to chicken out of doing the final zip wire,” he said, a small grin on his face. 

He clearly loved his job, but he perhaps loved watching how you squirmed underneath him even more. Even in spite of how unfit you felt, and who knows how God awful you looked after hours of physically demanding challenges with a group of people you didn’t know, Joel had kept close to you the entire time. At first you thought it was just because you weren’t here with anyone else, with the rest of your group being made up of couples, or small groups of friends. But the more you’d gone round the course, the more he’d hung back to chat with you; all the while throwing in small physical touches, flirtatious banter, but never overstepping. 

You’d be lying if you said you hated it. In truth, it was rather welcome. 

“Oh! That…,” you trailed off, your eyes now moving to dare look down at the final challenge remaining. You’d been so distracted by the views that you’d completely missed every other person already completing the 200-metre zip wire that stood between you and finishing the course. It was now just you and Joel stood here in the trees, the distant chatter of the rest of the group unbuckling themselves from their harnesses and heading off being just a faint noise. 

“Yes, that,” he chuckled, “Nervous?”.

“A little, I guess. But I’ll be fine! You go ahead, Joel. I’m sure the rest of the group are waiting for your instruction,” you smiled. Joel squeezed your shoulder slightly harder and shook his head, his eyes never faltering. 

“They’ll be fine. My brother is on hand at the bottom to get everyone out. You, darlin’, are my priority,” he said. 

You felt a shiver run down your spine, and you weren’t entirely sure if it was the anxiety of the oncoming zip line, or horniness from that damn pet name he seemed to only use for you, which somehow lit a fire underneath you in a way your ex had never quite managed. Either way, you were nervous. 

“I am?” you stammered. 

“Yeah,” he drawled, “That okay?”.

“Y-yes,” you swallowed, hard. Even if he did just mean from a professional point of view, that he couldn’t legally leave you up here alone, you didn’t feel like that was where he was coming from. 

“Good,” he said. “Tell you what, I’ll sweeten the deal for ya,” he said, his hand now dropping to the fastening on your harness. His fingers glided over the buckles, tugging them slightly to make sure they were still in their proper place after so much activity. The force moved you ever closer to him, and suddenly you found yourself mere inches from his body. The only thing that snapped you out of the trance of watching Joel, and made you realise he’d asked you something, was the sound of your safety lines clanging together on the guideline above you. 

“How so?” you asked. Joel winked at you. 

“You get your cute butt down that zipline in the next two minutes, and I’ll take ya out for dinner, darlin’,” he chuckled. 

You couldn’t hold back the small giggle as Joel began detaching your safety lines one by one to the main zip wire, taking extra care in making sure that they were attached properly. He’d given everyone a crash course on fastening their own lines before you even started, and everyone had got the hang of it by the time you reached the main course - so this extra attention was definitely not because he didn’t think you could do it. No, he wanted to make sure you were secure himself. 

And something about that was quite arousing. 

“I have a cute butt?” you asked, acting like you weren’t relieved you’d picked the good leggings to do this course the second you’d seen how cute your instructor was. Joel laughed lowly behind you, with you now facing the descending zip-line, him tugging on your lines to make sure you were fastened in properly. 

“Sure, that’s what you focus on,” his words skimmed the shell of your ear, and his strong hands landed on your waist from behind. You sucked in a breath at the closeness, and the feeling of warmth that seeped into your body from his touch. It was a kind of comfort mixed with a desire to say screw dinner, come back to my hotel. 

“Yes, you have a cute butt. But you also have a beautiful smile, a gorgeous laugh, and a personality I’d very much like to get to know a bit better,” he said, his voice now lower and almost a whisper behind you. “Is that alright?”. 

“Joel, I’m only here for another week, and then I’m gone. What’s in it for you?” you asked. 

“Darlin’, I’d like to make your last week here the most memorable. Pay no heed to ‘what’s in it for me’. I wanna spend time with ya, and live in the moment a bit more, starting with taking you out tonight. How does that sound?”.

The smallest bit of guilt crept into you at the thought that Joel was willing to spend the next week with you only to then potentially never see you again. There was a nagging voice in your head that still wanted to say no to him, even after he’d made it clear that he didn’t care about the ‘what ifs’ and what would come after you would leave for home next week. 

But then you remembered why you came here. To push yourself, to live outside your comfort zone - the old you might have insisted on saying no, but you did wonder how many opportunities you’d missed in your life by playing it safe. 

“Okay,” you said, “I’d like that, Joel.”

You turned your head to smile at him, and were greeted with his soft brown eyes firmly on yours. He flashed a cheeky grin back at you, then leant in and quickly gave you a peck on the cheek. The scruff of his facial hair brushed against your soft skin, and it was over far too soon. 

“Good,” he chucked, “Now, off you go!” he said, tapping your ass and pushing your lines down the zip wire, setting you on course for the ground. You screamed and laughed as your body dipped off the platform and you were sent careering down the line at a rate of knots, the wind rushing through your hair and the horizon disappearing behind the treetops as you got closer to the landing platform on the ground. 

You could hear the faint laughter of Joel in the distance as he unclipped his wires and got ready to go down after you once you’d landed, and even while rushing down the line you could feel your cheeks burn as a teenage-like crush began making itself known. It might not be anything, but you wouldn’t know until you tried. 

You crash landed at the bottom of the line, your heels digging into the bark-coated flooring to slow you down, but you still unceremoniously landed on your ass. With nobody around, you let yourself flop down onto your back, still attached to the line, and let out a laugh. Your whole body ached, and you’d now definitely need a shower before going out with Joel tonight. But you didn’t care about that. You were happy. 

And, for the first time, you felt free. 

Liked this? Check out my Masterlist!

[vkelleyart]

Hi! forever ago, I downloaded WTTHTM. It was the fic that got me through quarantine as a high school sophomore. I'm now a college sophomore (hmm. gross. The passage of time.) I go back and read it every now and then, because, even though Simon and Baz are in my past, they influence everything I do. I'm in college for dramatic writing, and all the stories I write are some variation of fics I wrote in quarantine, but adapted to be their own independent story, like what you did with WTTHTM.

I woke up this morning with a pressing need to read it again (absolutely no clue why, just one of those random things, I guess) and I just felt like I had to reach out and thank you, because your work helped get me here. So,, thank you for writing and drawing, and I can't wait to read the published version when it hits shelves

Gosh, it's wild--and humbling--to read an ask like this on the eve of submitting my 2nd editorial pass of WTTHTM to its publishers. 😭Thank you so much for sharing this with me, and apart from my glee at connecting with someone who loved the story when it was a fic, I'm just so happy to hear it's encouraging you to pursue your original work! Fanfic deserves more props as an art form; not only does it give us space to develop our skills and collaborate with other writers, but it's also the ideal proving ground for exploring voice and producing the stories we really want to read.

It was during rewriting WTTHTM that I realized how little of the story's heart and soul had anything to do with Simon and Baz. The scaffolding was my own struggle for agency, identity, and freedom, and writing in the context of fanfic gave me permission to be vulnerable within the [relative] safety of fandom. It ultimately gave me the confidence I needed to do what I've always dreamed: write and sell an illustrated adult work of fiction.

I genuinely hope that this next chapter of your writing path delivers similar awakenings about your ability to create from the heart and share it with the world. Whenever your original work hits shelves--and I absolutely believe it will--I hope you'll come back here and tell me all about it. Thank you again for reaching out with such a lovely ask! 💖

[hotvintagepoll]

Ernest Torrence (Steamboat Bill Jr., Fighting Caravans, The Hunchback of Notre Dame)—Ernest Torrence was, by no means, a "little" guy - he was a quite towering 1.93 m tall - but he most certainly was scrungly. He was often cast as brooding and imposing villains, thanks to his somewhat intimidating physical appearance, where his height and sharp, stern-looking facial features certainly played a part. He started doing silent movies, where he was noted for, among others, his role as Clopin, the leader of the thieves, in The Hunchback of Notre Dame. He didn't only portray villains, though. In the Buster Keaton-movie, Steamboat Bill, Jr, he showed off his comedic skills as the father of Buster Keaton's main character (the age difference was merely seventeen years, but what with Keaton's youthful visage, and Torrence looking slightly older than his age, nobody would think "that's a young father right there",) and the two truly shone together, what with Keaton's deadpan slapstick, and Torrence's serious, yet slightly choleric sidekick. Another non-villanous part was the role of Peter the Apostle in The King of Kings (1927,) where he channels the energy that is called "pious yet slightly alarmed." He played in both silent movies and talkies, and managed that transition very well. Unfortunately, he died quite young - at the age of 55, in 1933 - and didn't get much time showing off his talents further in that era. Watching his movies, I often see something sinister... but I always sees something fun, too. A man having the time of his life portraying these roles, villains or not. There is always an aura of delight surrounding him. Charm, charisma, and some serious acting chops. I wish this competition took place a few decades ago (by post perhaps? I'm an old woman.) Then I would have "gone ham" with this. Young and energetic me had such a platonic crush on this man. I loved the way he wasn't traditionally handsome. I loved that large snout of his. The wicked eyebrows. The intelligent yet sinister gaze. I wrote poems about him. I drew his portrait. I had a portrait of him above my bed (which I still own, by have moved a few times since then.) I knew so much about him, his life, and his works back then, but now, even though I love him as much as back then, a lot of information has escaped me with age. Whatever happens, Ernest Torrence will always and forever be the scrungligest of scrungly little big guys for me.

Fats Waller (Stormy Weather)—Submitting fats waller because i looove his little cameo spot in Stormy Weather (1943). He has the best facial expressions and he just seems like a silly fella!

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Ernest Torrence

Fats Waller:

[utahlive]

if you votes yes… GOOD NEWS!!! I made a bit of an oopsie

Storytime!! So a while ago I was messing around on Vograce (as one does) and I thought "hey, what better way to thank my friends for their support and treat myself than by making UtahLIVE stickers!" (you can tell where I'm going with this).

So I go and I order the stickers. Minimum order 5, it says. And I'm like yeah ok I have 5 friends this works out great. Submit order. Pay. About a week later I go back to check the status of the order and I do a little double take at the name of what I have ordered. Stickers (10pc). 5 orders. Now, im not a maths guy, but I at least know my times table and so I realize: oh my god, I just ordered 50 fucking UtahLIVE stickers.

I really dont want people seeing this and thinking "wow ok you totally just "accidentally" did that and this isnt some conspiracy to sell your shit" ITS NOT I SWEAR I REALLY AM JUST THAT DUMB

I genuinely don't know what to do with these. I dont even care that much about getting any profit back so if people are interested Id probably put these on Etsy for $1.50 - $3?

proof theyre real btw (miku for scale)

if this flops I'll… keep them in my desk forever? I joked about putting them on lamp posts around my city but I think id die of embarrassment if someone saw me putting one of these up. Imagine walking to a Starbucks and you see this….

PS! sorry for the lack of uploads :( I put a lot of energy into the big one and it burnt me out a bit + homework. Hoping to catch up this weekend <3 thank you for the patience

[boyfiejay]

omg the jungwon soulmate au was so cute 😔 i was wondering if you could do one for sunoo?? <3

Thank you for sending an ask! This took me so long, im so sorry. Love you <3

Soulmate AU

PAIRING : Sunoo x gn Reader

GENRE : Soulmate au, fated to be

Warning : mention of drink(no names), almost road accident, reader calls him pretty like 10 times

Word Count : 1.1k

Author's note : lowk wrote this in a hurry so it isn't the best :((

Jungwon version

Working in a café in your junior year of high school was probably the dumbest decision you've made. Well, in your defence, last year when you started working, it was a nice distraction. The cafe wasn't very popular, the same few faces greeting you everyday.

But a couple months ago, a local influencer made a post about the cafe and the once silent and comforting cafe was constantly bombarded with people.

You were happy for the raise, but not for the increased work.

The only reason your parents haven't asked you to quit yet is because this job makes you meet new people everyday. 'Parents and their obsession with soulmates' you thought, and continued wiping the table.

Yeah, soulmates. When you turned 10 you were presented with a bracelet with a pretty charm, your soulmate has a bracelet with similar or identical charm on it. You remember being excited to meet yoir soulmate just like your parents. When you meet your soulmate, the charms link together and let go whenever they please.

When you meet your soulmate, you feel like you've known them forever and suddenly feel so much adoration for them, yada yada (you've heard this for years)

Now that you're older, you aren't as much excited, all because you remember seeing people all over each other, practically eating each other's faces throughout your high school days.

Today was one of the few days that it was actually peaceful, only a handful of people coming in. It had been over half an hour since no one came and you were honestly getting tired of wiping the same floor and same tables.

Just then the bell attached to the door chimed as someone made their presence known. The person stood in front of the counter looking at the menu and wondering what to order, but all you could think about was how pretty this guy is.

His beauty could single handedly defeat all of your past crushes, combined.

Before you literally start drooling at him, he opened his mouth to place his order and started taking out the money for it. God even his voice was pretty, were you going to get a crush on a random stranger you probably would never meet.

Taking your eyes off his breathtaking form, you hurried to make his drink. In record time the drink was in front of him, even he looked surprised as to how you made it so fast.

He handed you the money, something shiny on his wrist caught your eye. You returned his change and observed his wrist.

It looked too much like yours.

Before you could be out of your trance and open your mouth, he had thanked you with the prettiest smile and was hurrying out the door.

For the next week you couldn't get the pretty stranger out of your mind. All your thoughts circled back to whether his charm was really similar to yours. To be fair, a lot of people had similar looking charms, just enough difference that you wouldn't catch in a hurry. Sure his must have been different.

But you couldn't shake off this feeling that there was more to it, you just wanted to run to him and confirm it yourself. But where would you go? You didn't know his name, or his age, or which school (or uni) he went to.

Today was one of the worst days you've had this whole month. Firstly your teacher suddenly announced that you needed to submit a lengthy assignment tomorrow, then your locker door won't open and you were late to class. It seemed that you had pissed your teacher a lot considering you were sent to detention, and then your regular bus had missed.

After waiting about 20 minutes, the next bus arrived, you got on and walked to the very back of the bus to sit. You almost cursed out loud when you saw who was sitting in the row beside yours, almost.

It was the guy from the café! He had his earphones plugged in as he was hurriedly typing on his phone. The charm on his bracelet caught your attention, it really did look like yours.

Again, before you could speak up, thr bus had stopped and he was walking towards the door. He was going to get off!

You weighed your options for 2 seconds before you were also walking out.

He was walking away still immersed in texting, his whole attention on his screen. God what kind of tea did he get to have that much attention on texting.

Just then you saw a car speeding on the road, the road this guy was going to walk on!! You ran towards him, pulling his shirt collar just in time as the car zoomed past. You pulled him far away from the road.

He began coughing due to the pressure on his neck as you panted from the running. He threw a confused look towards you and before he could open his mouth you said, "A car was speeding, you would've gotten run over."

He probably didn't notice anything due to the earphones still plugged in. Noticing his neck slightly turn red you apologised. But he was quick to brush it and thank you for saving him.

It was awkward for a moment, till he noticed your gaze on his wrist. In turn he looked at yours, immediately softly grabbing your wrist to inspect your bracelet.

"You're.. We are.." he muttered, not being able to finish his thoughts.

"Yeah. Yeah we are." you nodded.

He hesitantly brought up his wrist to link your charms together. Although you already knew that you were soulmates, this was a process that made your bond stronger.

As the charms linked together, he looked up to meet your eyes. God even his eyes were pretty, long lashes and everything. This man was perfection, and he was your soulmate?

"I'm Sunoo, Kim Sunoo. Are you free right now? I mean, we don't really have a choice since this will not let go just now." he said, although borderline rambling, his voice remained soft and soothing.

You couldn't stop the smile on your face as it was finally dawning upon you that you found your soulmate. You nodded at him as he gave you one of his smiles that might even put the sun to shame.

"Let's go then! I'll show you my favourite places and you show me yours." he said, his voice more high pitched as he became excited. A slight bounce in his step as he grasped your hand, his fingers weaving through yours.

[steddieunderdogfics]

For Challenge Monday, fics with 7/7 chapters: November Paramedic by Backyardowl :D

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44286078

November Paramedic by BackyardOwl

Rating: Mature

25,662 words, 7/7 chapters

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Awkwardness, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Paramedic Steve Harrington, Lust at First Sight, Sexual Tension, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Mess, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Good Friend Gareth (Stranger Things), Good Friend Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Eddie would disagree on the "good friends" part but it's true, POV Eddie Munson, Masturbation, Rimming, Anal Sex

Summary:

Eddie has had his fair share of fantasies, but none of them involved fucking a paramedic. Until two years ago. That's when the "sexy men at work"-calendar got added to his porn stash and orgasms as he knew them changed forever. All the men in the calendar are hot, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic. He's got this look in his eyes, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in it. And everything is fine. Everything is great. Eddie's been single forever and he has no idea where he's headed in life, but he's fine. At least until he's collateral damage in a bar fight after a gig, and none other than his sexy November-paramedic arrives to treat his wounds.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was 7/7 Chapters.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[subjectsix]

aaaaa i know i already submitted a prompt so feel free to ignore this one !! but i would love to see what you'd come up with for arish and either one or both of the fadens (dealers choice) and the word loss maybe?? >_< thanks yous..

no worries at all!!! <3

They all have to wonder if The Oldest House is a neutral place.

A place can't hate you (can it?), unless haunting you is the same thing.

Any real attempts to mark time during lock down ultimately don't mean much. It affects everyone and everything differently. The House is their world. Confined, and sprawling on forever.

The Bureau is... the Bureau, so it's always been a weird clash of humanity and "the machine". Arish has tried to fight it where he can. Make sure "the little guy" isn't so little, or at least gets heard. The new leadership, the way he has a voice, the way everyone's been forced to come together... it's good. It's a culture shift. It's a camaraderie he's been craving.

The silver bullet around his neck is a heavy weight. The new is wonderful, hopefully changing the Bureau for the better, but it's...

Maybe it's just a bad dream to wake up from. Another one of the nightmares that's haunted Arish since Albany with a steady frequency. They've become dull and familiar. Still making his heart race, sending the adrenaline through every vein and to every nerve ending, but leaving him waking up feeling dull. Distant. Like he maybe didn't wake up all the way. Like someone's moving forward for him out of necessity, and he's just a passenger, observing from the backseat.

Maybe that's okay. The only way out is forward, right?

Jesse is thankful for the new life she has, in many ways. She walks straighter, looks people in the eye, smiles more. There's a commanding presence she thought she'd lost as a kid, sharpened and refined into something she wished she had years ago. Something she wished she could receive years ago.

She has all the answers, all sorts of brand new questions, and a veritable playground of incredible proportions. New things to discover, what are essentially superpowers to use, and the authority to just go out and do it. Therapists with lists of restrictions are a forgotten thing of the past.

She has her brother. In a way. She has those answers. In a way.

How do you fix what's already happened? How can you replace the years apart? How can you bridge the rift? The high-reaching cell walls box him away from her. She presses her hands against the glass, powerless. Finding Dylan was supposed to be her purpose. And here he is, all grown up. Almost lifeless, apart from the steady rise and fall of his chest. Still stuck in the same grey clothes she found him in. Confined, separated by inches of metal, glass, and Black Rock.

Finding Dylan was supposed to be her purpose. They went everywhere together, did everything together. There were hardly any secrets between them. She fought every battle she could for him.

Grieving him feels wrong. Displaced. Sickening. She can't even entertain the thought. He's right there, isn't he?

So much time already past. So much more slipping away.

In moments of petrifying lucidity, Dylan wonders if this is the price for freedom. Almost every single part of his life has been out of his own control. He had to go to school. He had to memorize his times tables. He had to take the plane to New York. He had to stay inside the Oldest House. He had to try to become Director. Earn being Director.

Maybe he could have said no. Get in trouble for playing hooky. Get an F and held back a grade. Run away with Jesse, and live a life like the kids in storybooks, hidden in the forest, building shelters and tree houses and their own place to call home.

Fail the test. Lose the Bureau's trust. Become the monster they feared.

What good is a choice, if they're offered by the person imprisoning him? What leads to his release? Good behavior? Look where that's gotten me.

Does he prove them right? Fight against it and fight hard, make them really realize what they've done to him, what they've driven him to, how much he hates them, how much he hates what they've made him, what he's chosen to become. Isn't that taste of rebellion glorious?

What did it get him? More death. A new cage. A new torture. Trapped inside himself, surrounded by their cries for help and the burning, burning, burning hatred of...

The Hiss? Or him?

Sitting with the consequences. Watching helplessly from inside. Pressed up against the proverbial glass, trying, trying, trying.

Good for nothing, at this point. Maybe since the start. Maybe they were right.

The House should feel like a neutral place. Maybe it's made neutral by the good and the bad. Cancelling out into concrete walls and timeless days.

In some enlightening way, this is where you belong, right?

In some sick way, maybe this is where you belong.

How do you move from a haunted house when it's the only place that still feels quite like home?

one word prompts